Long Shadows
by kukumalu01
Summary: Sometimes, it was depressing being by the side lines when your best friend is fighting foes. But Benjamin finds out the true meaning of friendship in a humble violin shop. R


**- Long Shadows - **

**A Benjamin Brown Story**

_Sometimes, it was depressing being by the side lines when your best friend is fighting foes. But Benjamin finds out the true meaning of friendship in a humble violin shop._

* * *

"Whenever a friend succeeds, a little something in me dies," Benjamin Brown read aloud to his dog. He frowned, and slid the book back into the bookshelf. He traced the line of gold-spine books along the middle row and selected another book out at random. "A friend in need is a friend to be avoided."

"Ruff!" barked Runner Bean, in obvious disagreement. He was sitting obediently beside his master, wagging his tail. Then, the dog's head tilted a little to the side. His master was still holding the thick book in his heads, his straw-coloured hair hanging in his eyes so his eyes were in shadows. Benjamin had not moved.

"What do you think, Runner?" Benjamin said, softly and seriously. "Mom just said this morning that I was seeing too much of Charlie."

"Ruff!" It was blatant disagreement on the dog's part. Runner Bean liked Charlie. He slipped the dog treats every now and then whenever Grandma Bone was not looking.

Benjamin stared at the small script on the aged paper, rereading the line. _A friend in need is a friend to be avoided._ His eyes traveled down the page. _There is no more use for a friend using you. _

* * *

God, the book seemed to be written by his parents. Benjamin flinched at the memory. That afternoon, after he had returned from school, he was surprised to find both his parents sitting at the breakfast table. They were talking in low voices, but stopped when Benjamin entered the house.

"Benjamin," his mother had said straight on, with no preamble. "Don't you think you're seeing a little too much of Charlie?"

The casual conversation soon turned into an argument.

"What do you mean; I can't go over to Charlie's house during the weekend anymore?" Benjamin had cried. "It's the only time I can see Charlie!"

His father had chosen his word carefully. "Exactly."

Benjamin's mouth opened slightly. With his eyes unusually bright, Benjamin had grabbed Runner Bean's leash and ran out of the house. His mind clouded with the earlier conversation, he simply followed Runner Bean's lead until they found themselves in front of Ingledew's Bookshop.

* * *

"Benjamin!" greeted Ms. Ingledew cheerfully, sounding slightly out of breath. Benjamin looked up, startled, while he put the book back into the shelf. Julia Ingledew had finally shown her customer out of the shop, his wallet a few hundred dollar bills lighter. She turned to the only other person in her shop, and her smile dropped when she saw Benjamin's face. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Benjamin replied faintly. "I'll just be leaving."

"Do you want a drink, Benjamin?" Ms. Ingledew suggested, eyeing his pale face. "You just came in after all."

"It's OK, thanks," Benjamin said, shaking his head. The note of concern in her voice was just too obvious; he tried to shake off his depression like how Runner Bean could shake off water from his fur. He managed a passable smile and opened the door to exit.

"Wait, Benjamin!" Ms. Ingledew said quickly. She bent down, vanishing from view completely for several seconds, before standing up with a violin case in her hands.

Benjamin exchanged a look with Runner Bean, who looked confused as only a dog can. "I didn't know you play the violin, Ms. Ingledew," commented Benjamin.

"Oh, I don't," Ms. Ingledew said. Seeing Benjamin's bewildered expression, she explained hastily, "Emma wanted to draw musical instruments for her course work over the weekend. She found a lovely shop which lent her the violin, so I was wondering… Well, if you're not doing anything…"

Benjamin hovered hesitantly by the door. He wanted go home and sleep; pondering on whether you should drop your oldest and best friend in your life leaves a person mentally exhausted and emotionally drained.

"I'm busy-" he began, until the words from the books flashed in his mind. _A friend in need is a friend to be avoided._

"I see," came Ms. Ingledew's disappointed voice, only to be interrupted.

"- but I'll drop by the shop."

"Will you?" Ms. Ingledew said, gratefulness written all over her face. Benjamin smiled in a strained way as he took the black violin case from her. '_I'm not going to follow some words from a guy dead centuries ago_.'

"It's pretty near," Ms. Ingledew said, leaning across the counter. She pointed out of the open door. "See the lane over there? Just follow it straight on. It's a lovely shop called 'The Violin Shop'. It's two doors down from 'The Kettle Shop'."

'_The Violin Shop, huh? What an original title._' Then, Benjamin bit his lip. It was extremely unlike him to make sarcastic remarks. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head.

"Okay."

"Ruff."

* * *

The Violin Shop was beautiful in its own way. It was a humble place at the end of the row of shop houses. Its shop front had a mannequin in luxurious midnight blue robes and a white lace dress shirt playing a violin on a black backdrop. The wall facing the street was brick-layered, with a welcoming brown oak door half-opened.

Runner Bean looked up at Benjamin, as if to say, '_This_ is the place?'

Benjamin was looking up at the sign above the display. "The Violin Shop," he read aloud. He looked down at his dog and shrugged.

"Yes, boy," came a sudden voice. A wizened old man hobbled into view, standing in front of the door. "This is the Violin Shop."

He was a tiny person; his full height probably brought him to around Benjamin's shoulder. He was balding, with wisps of flyaway white hair to remind people that there was once a full crop on his head. He had a long beard with came to his knobby knees. His cheeks were ruddy red, matching the red shirt and white pants he was wearing.

He looked like a smaller, and a heck lot skinnier, version of Santa Claus.

Benjamin just stared.

"Is there anything you want, boy?" the old man asked snappishly. "I haven't got all day, you know!" He gestured vaguely to the empty shop with a bony hand. "People, people, people!"

"People, sir?" Benjamin repeated uncertainly. "There- there isn't any people."

"Don't call me 'sir', I'm not so old. The name's Mozart. Mo, for short." The enigma of a senior citizen lifted his bushy eyebrows at the black violin case that hung loosely by Benjamin's hand. "Of course there are people! There are people everywhere- if you're done talking to one of them, _another_ pops out with yet another annoying reason." He cleared his throat and stretched out his hand, flexing his long fingers.

Runner Bean whined softly and nudged the hard case with his black nose. Benjamin was too lost in his own thoughts to feel the slight movement by his side.

"What do you mean by people… coming by with annoying reasons?" Benjamin pondered, frowning. For some reason, the old man reminded him of himself, when he met Charlie from time to time. Charlie always seemed to want Benjamin's help when he was in a spot of trouble.

'_Then again'_, Benjamin's kinder side spoke up, '_Charlie is_ always _in trouble'_.

For the first time, Mo smiled. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and his piercing blue eyes lit up. The old man swiped the violin case from Benjamin's hand with surprising speed, and hobbled back into the shop.

Runner Bean barked excitedly. Benjamin's brown eyes widened at the sudden leave of the old man. "Wait, wait!" He quickly tied his dog's leash around a white pipe running along the wall of the shop, and gave Runner Bean a quick pat on the head. "Wait here," Benjamin whispered, "I just need to ask the old m– I mean, Mo, something."

The sandy-haired dog gave a soft woeful howl, and then settled on the cobbled stone ground. Runner Bean rested his head on his paws. He glanced up at Benjamin, as if to say, '_Well, go on then_'.

* * *

A blast of warm air met Benjamin when he trudged into the shop cautiously. A delicious aroma of wood and coffee wafted under his nose. He looked around, momentarily forgetting his confusing hurricane of emotions in the homely shop. It was small, lighted up by a dim pale yellow light emitting from a small old-fashioned chandelier on the ceiling. Varnished wooden strips lined the floor. The walls were stained oak colour, with violins of all sizes lined the walls. A black grand piano took up most of the floor space, leaving space for two purple velvet cushions around the piano and fur-lined cloth boxes lined up against the walls.

"Your Ms. Ingledew has taken good care of my precious instrument," the old man called, from the back of a counter. It was almost impossible to spot from behind the piano. Benjamin squeezed past the cushioned chairs and walked up to him. Mo had on a pair of black round spectacles. When he looked up, his blue eyes were enlarged through the glasses, making him look like an owl. The violin was out of its case.

"Mr. Mo," Benjamin said, and the old man chuckled at the variation of his name. "If this is a violin shop, why do you have a piano?"

"My boy, this is _the_ Violin Shop," Mo exclaimed, gesturing again to his walls. The twinkle in his eyes did not die. "I don't think that is the question you want to ask! Is it? When you tied up your dog in the front of my shop, I did think you had something more important to ask!"

"Well- I-"

Mo took off his spectacles, and blinked twice at the sudden change of his vision. He weaved his way around Benjamin, who was squashed in a corner, and walked to his piano. "I don't play the piano," Mo confessed abruptly.

Benjamin's eyes widened. "Then why do you have a piano?"

"There used to be a man," Mo said, his head nodding along, as if Benjamin had asked the correct question. "He used to play the piano. Brilliantly, I might add. I taught him. On this piano. My best student, he was. Alas, he is gone now!" The last sentence was almost a moan, and the old man sank his head dramatically into his arms, resting on the piano keys.

"Where is the man now?" Benjamin asked after a while, not knowing how to comfort the man.

"Lost," replied a muffled voice.

"So you can play the piano," Benjamin summed up hesitantly. He did not know why, but the story felt important to him somehow. "But you stopped playing. This man was someone to you, so you keep the piano. For him."

"Oh, he was not just someone!" Mo raised his head, no traces of sadness on his face. He was beaming, as if encouraging Benjamin to continue. "He was more than a student! He was a _friend_."

"But Mr. Mo, you just said you didn't like people in general. They bother you, with annoying reasons."

The old man stabbed his index finger in Benjamin's direction. "Did I ever say they 'bother' me?" he cried out, making quotation marks in the air when he said 'bother'.

Benjamin would have taken a step back in surprise, if there was any room to move. "Er," he said, racking his brains to remember, "No, sir."

"No!" the old man was nodding vigorously now. "Exactly, boy, exactly!"

Benjamin scrunched his face in confusion. "I don't understand."

"People come by," Mo said slowly, as if trying to explain something relatively simple to a particularly dense toddler. "They come by with annoying reasons. _Reasons_, mind you. A broken violin that needs fixing, a piano lesson to make up for a missed one, heck, even a cat in a tree, they call me. They're annoying. But they need _help_."

For some reason, Benjamin was thinking about Charlie. He was secretive, most of the time, during the dangerous adventures he took upon when he entered Bloors. It hurt Benjamin when Charlie kept these secrets from him. It was hurtful. It was upsetting. It was… _annoying_.

Mo gave another real smile at Benjamin, when the expression on the boy's face started to change.

"So- so what do you do then?"

"Why, I help them of course!" Mo shook his head quickly, making his beard shake. He got up, and made his way to the counter again. "Of course! I don't need to know why their reasons are so important to them- they are annoying to _me_. But they are a friend in need. And I help them."

"Mr. Mo, so you don't think that a friend in need is a friend… to be avoided?" Benjamin asked tentatively.

Mo leaned against the counter. "Well then," the old man said slowly, replacing the spectacles on the bridge of his nose, and making him look exactly like the owl that made his words so wise, "I don't suppose you're much of a friend in the first place, are you?"

He turned his attention back to the violin. "Now go on then, boy. You haven't got all day you know. People, people, people!"

* * *

Benjamin walked down the steps outside the Violin Shop and sat down next to his dog. Runner Bean lifted an ear, and looked up at Benjamin again, as if saying '_What happened? I'm all ears._'

Benjamin was quiet for a long time. Then, he said, almost to himself, "I think I have it sorted, Runner. I really think I do."

* * *

Not too long after that, Benjamin met Charlie on the way home. The bus rolled to a stop by their neighborhood, and a familiar messy-haired boy leapt from the steps of the bus. Runner Bean barked in delight, and pulled Benjamin towards him.

"Benjamin!" Charlie greeted, smiling broadly at the sight of his best friend. "You have no idea what happened during the week!" The grin slid off his face, and his voice lowered. Tension and anxiety laced his voice. "Something's up again. Can I count on your help then? Meet me in the Pet's Café this afternoon?"

'_Don't you think you're seeing a little too much of Charlie?'_

'_A friend in need is a friend to be avoided.'_

'_But they are a friend in need. And I help them.'_

'_So you don't think that a friend in need is a friend… to be avoided?'_

'_Well then… I don't suppose you're not much of a friend in the first place, are you?'_

"Benjamin?" Charlie said uncertainly, peering at his friend. "Are you alright?"

"I have it sorted." Benjamin swallowed, and then gave a kind of a smile to his friend. "So. One o'clock then?"

* * *

A/N: I really like Benjamin. He seems to be a decent fellow, and for some reason, he's always a friend to Charlie eventhough the latter gets into trouble all the time and hardly speaks to Benjamin anymore. Benjamin really deserves more credit.

Like it? Hate it? Review!


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